Okay so I'm going to talk about lap dances. For the squeamish among you, there is no need to go further. (thus guaranteeing that everyone will read further.)
Several years ago, I'm thinking three or four, we were out for my birthday. Sometimes it is fun to finish the night at a stripclup ogling the boys on stage. Certainly when I first visited Montreal in '95 and on subsequent visits, I behaved as most Americans do, my eyes about fell out of my head (while other things pressed from their confines) when I saw what a real gay stripclub could be. Short of the guy I saw jack off on stage once in a seedy San Francisco jizz stenched theater (don't ask) the boys here do everything but. I had been to "strip clubs" in the states but they were more like "ladies night" up here. I don't like to go on ladies night, the boys on stage turn into coy things, just a little flash of the junk here, a little ass cleavage there. Tame. Boring. No, I much prefer the guys walking out sporting a rock hard-on and waving it around like a trophy. Ahem. So the dancers do their thing on stage and then they circulate among the patrons watching in the audience. It's a stage with bar tables all around. The dancers are very friendly and inquisitive, as I'm sure tourists are an easy target. They offer to take you in back for "contact dance" for $20 a song. The songs are all 3 minutes as they go with the performances on stage. It is best to establish the exact number of songs you are willing to pay for, or you stand a chance of being taken advantage of. Scrupulous, nude dancers are not. Double ahem.
The booth. So it's my birthday and spouse knows I've had a thing for years about one particular dancer. Anyway, Serge says to go ahead and "buy" him, he'll pay (I love spouse). So he gives me $40 and I go to find Daniel, his stage name. I tell him I want two songs and he takes me into his room, says I can do anything I want except penetration and then works on himself a bit to get, err, more attentive. (Insert thrillingness here.) At the end of the two songs, he says he will give me two more songs if I massage his back. So I do and then I pay.
So at the market Thursday, that's the guy who mistook my cart for his while we were both perusing the veggies. He, of course, had no recollection of me.
17 comments:
But in the moment to trade additional songs for a massage and not the coin of the realm, tells me that he noticed something about you he liked. Maybe if you had massaged his fruit in the market, it would have brought back memories. :)
I've had the lap dance experience, in Toronto. The whole atmosphere of the gay strip club in Canada is kind of like a big fun party, but I've found gay strip clubs in the states to be more...sleezy. (not that that stopped me from going)
And since you posted, upon request, about this subject, how about posting, upon request, about the SF jizz stenched theater story too? :)
Fun story, torn.
So what songs did he dance to? Perhaps you could have hummed a few bars at the market on Thursday...just to remind him.
It was nice of Spouse to pay for your fun. I have been to some seedy bookstores with glory holes and sticky floors. I once went to an x-rated theater the floor wasn't sticky from popcorn butter. Can't they clean those places once in a while?
They always forget the cute ones, unfortunately. We're just a number, dear. Only a dollar bill in the eyes of the wicked.
I must be reading too much Armistead Maupin, this didn't even make me blush! LOL!
I've only been to a couple of the male dancer shows, but never was there even any nudity.
If a man came out with a rock hard erection, the women would run screaming...okay, maybe just me.
Embarrassment. That's all I feel when I see some poor shmuck dancing around in a gold satin thong.
What sucks about tipping in Canada is that we don't have $1 or $2 bills, anymore.
You either have to tip in fivers (not bloody likely since it gets expensive after a while), or whip coins at them (again, not bloody likely unless they're lousy strippers).
Of course, it's not like I know any of this from experience.
I have some good memories of the men at the Campus in Montreal. I was much too frugal, though, to pay for private time.
Say hey to the family for me... (evil grin)
My one weekend in Montreal included such an excursion, though I was too thrifty to purchase a lap dance. If money had been no object, however...
I love that you gave us a glimpse of your earthy side. And I'm with Lem, I think he liked you a bit more than just for the money. I sure that back rub was much more exciting than sex for him.
What a sweet encounter in the supermarket.
Well, my respect for you grows even more. I had a guy try to do a lap dance on me, and I pushed him off. I can be really shy.
At least, it was not kiwis....
I want more dirt from your story. Anything but penetration... and so what did u do?
Wow, I must get out (and up to Montreal) more.
Fun story!
Mark
I've brooded on this and I think I may be daft, and inviting flak, to say it but here goes anyway.
I was sort of distressed by the lap dancer episode. I so wanted to think of you guys as utterly monogamous.
"So what, Paul? Other people are not just props for your fantasies."
I so agree.
"How spouses live their lives is for them to negotiate."
Oh, I agree entirely.
"I suppose you're some crazy religionist who thinks being gay is just about permissible provided It is only done in the dark with a legal spouse."
No, actually. The idea that Jesus Wouldn't Buy A Lap Dancer was not one that occurred to me.
"Well, anyway, this is about YOU, YOUR insecurities and inadequacies fluffed up in a gooey picture of them."
Yes. (Small voice.)
"I mean, if they're happy with that, and they obviously are, what's it to you?"
Oh, I know. (Head hung.)
But, but, but, but but...
Paul Brownsey
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